


a tension for the blessed

by verity



Series: directedverse skittles [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Directedverse, Dom/sub Undertones, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Sub Stiles, True Alpha Scott McCall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-11
Updated: 2014-09-11
Packaged: 2018-02-17 00:23:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2290136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verity/pseuds/verity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I thought you liked doms," Scott says.</p><p>"I do," Stiles says, scowling. "That's the problem."</p><p>"Well, I'm an alpha now," Scott says. "Do you think that'll work for you?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	a tension for the blessed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [daunt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/daunt/gifts).



> AU after 3A!

When they're growing up, almost everyone thinks it'll be the other way around—Stiles is the impulsive, reckless misbehaver, Scott the one always getting roped into his schemes. Scott doesn't mind. Mom is a sub, and she's not exactly a limpet; Stiles's dad is the sheriff, which was a big deal back when he was running for office the first time. But he won.

Dad makes Scott sit in the living room in the dark while he talks to Stiles's mom in heated whispers at the door. "You think this is appropriate?" Dad says. "You think this kind of behavior will be fine when they get older?"

Stiles's mom huffs. "Rafa, you know better than that. You can't tell—"

"You can tell," says Dad.

Scott sits in the living room with his hands clasped. He hates being in trouble. The kind of punishment you get when you're a kid is chores, grounding, your allowance taken away. It's not the kind you get when you're older; grownups _like_ that punishment. Dad has a flogger over the door of his office. Stiles says that's because Dad is a dick.

—

When they're in middle school, Stiles starts taking these quizzes online. He makes Scott take them, too. Sometimes they're _Which Harry Potter Character Are You?_ and sometimes they're purity tests, 30 questions, 70, 200. They take forever and they're boring. All Scott has to report are his masturbatory habits and the fact he likes girls and boys, which isn't that weird. The quizzes say that he probably likes doms and subs, too, but same role marriage is legal in five states now. It's a little scary, but it wouldn't be a big deal to Mom.

They're eating Hot Pockets on Scott's front porch when Stiles says, "I think I'm a sub." This is on month seven of All Quizilla, All The Time, which is starting to make a little more sense. Stiles is hunched over, hands tightly gripping the paper sleeve of his ham & cheese pocket. He looks afraid.

"That's cool, dude," Scott says around an oversized bite of meatball pocket. He swallows. "Are you okay with it?"

"Not really," Stiles says. "I always thought—we always—everybody thought that I'd be the other way."

Scott shrugs, scuffs his heel along the plank of the bottom stair. Stiles always makes sure Scott has his inhaler, takes care of his dad now that his mom is gone. That seemed like dom instinct, protecting and stuff, but it's nurturing and caring, too. Stiles's mom always told them that everybody's different, that roles aren't so clearcut, and some people are neither or in between. Maybe Scott isn't anything at all. Scott says, "If we're both subs, that's okay."

Stiles's mouth twists. "Yeah. I guess."

—

Allison is a dom, but she doesn't mind that Scott isn't really into discipline. Sometimes she holds down his wrists when they have sex, and she likes to be on top, but it's playful. Scott doesn't feel like he has to submit to her. He loves her. That part is easy.

Werewolves aren't like real wolves, with moms and dads who lead their families together, evenly yoked. Instead, they're like humans, but a weird, unbalanced group with a sole dom at the top and a bunch of subs underneath. Scott doesn't like Derek trying to boss him around, Peter using him, or the alpha pack trying to draw him in. He grew up with Dad, which was one asshole dom too many.

Then, Scott crosses a mountain ash line and, abruptly, the asshole dom is _him_.

—

"You're not actually a dom," Stiles points out. "You're an alpha. The _truest_ alpha." He makes wavy gestures in the air; Lydia moves his hand before he hits her in the face with his water bottle. Allison rolls her eyes.

Scott dips his chicken nugget into the puddle of honey mustard on Isaac's napkin. "It's still weird." He likes some of it, like how he can _feel_ his pack down to his bones—Stiles and Allison and Isaac and Lydia. He's stronger, too, and better able to defend them. Scott has the power he needs to lead his pack—to compel them, if he wants, but, uh, no way. They were his friends before, and now they're his family.

Of course, Stiles has always been family.

—

Lydia and Stiles have gotten close, become friends after all of Stiles's years of pining. "Why don't you go for her?" Scott says as he does another one-armed pull-up. "Lydia's a dom, you like her, she likes you—"

Stiles is lying on Scott's bed, flipping through _The Sun Also Rises_ and taking notes for the essay that Scott's already finished. "Look, she wants somebody who's actually good at submission, who'll eat out of her hand. That's not me."

"Who says you're not good at submission?" Scott drops to the floor. "I'll yell at them, dude. I'll yell at them a lot."

Stiles rolls his eyes. "I'm rude, I'm bossy, I don't follow orders—you know."

"That doesn't make you a bad sub," Scott says. He comes over, plunks down next to Stiles on the bed, shoulders Stiles over until he has room to lie down. "I like those things about you."

"Thanks," Stiles says begrudgingly, but he gives Scott a little half-smile, the one that's real, and Scott feels a warm rush of satisfaction that makes his wolf rumble with contentment.

Which—oh. Okay. They've snugged up to each other like this for years, but Scott's never gotten half-hard over Stiles making room for him, yielding when he pushes. Stiles likes it when he pushes. Scott likes it when Stiles pushes back, so he's never thought about—oh. Oh.

Oblivious, Stiles flips another page in his book. Slaps on a post-it note, highlights, lays down another post-it note, gnaws on the pen cap in his mouth. Scott knows every office-supply-abuse noise in Stiles's vocabulary. He knows Stiles's heartbeat. He knows all of Stiles's purity quiz results circa 2008. But he's not like Stiles, weaving intricate maps of evidence and solutions with sleepless nights and string. Scott didn't connect the dots.

"Hey," he says softly. "You were sad when you figured out your role. What did you think before? Did you want to be a dom?"

Stiles is quiet for a moment. "Not really. But, you know—I always thought we—everyone did. That's why your dad used to be such a jerk to me. Now he thinks he has to have good manners or whatever."

"You have terrible manners," Scott says.

"Yeah, but apparently you're into that," Stiles says with a fake grin.

Scott looks up at Stiles, at his bright, brave face. "I am," he says, because he's a True Alpha, so he's gotta be just as brave. "Like—no, dude, I am."

Stiles spits out the pen cap he's gnawing on. It bounces on his book and rolls away, falling off the bed into the no-man's-land between mattress and wall. "What?"

"I thought you liked doms," Scott says.

"I do," Stiles says, scowling. "That's the problem."

"Well, I'm an alpha now," Scott says. "Do you think that'll work for you?"

For a long moment, Stiles just stares at Scott, like he can't believe what he's seeing. Maybe Scott needs to flash the eyes, the claws—no, not the claws. He takes a deep breath and lets Stiles look his fill. Then he tilts up his chin, just a little, and Stiles lowers his head. Their mouths meet, awkward, uncertain. Noses bump. Perfect.

—

When Scott pins Stiles down on the bed, he's not being playful. If Stiles needs to be dominated, Scott is his alpha, and he's going to provide. He puts Stiles on his stomach, yanks his hands behind his back, presses a sharp, biting kiss to Stiles's throat. It'll leave a mark. "You did this to me," Scott says. "You taped my hands behind my back and threw balls at me. Remember that? I definitely do."

Stiles squirms beneath him. "Hey, I was trying to help you with your control. That was, like, charitable." He's breathing fast, heart rate spiking with adrenaline.

"You chained me to a radiator and gave me a _dog bowl_ full of water." Scott sits back, puts his full weight on Stiles's hips. He fists Stiles's hair with his free hand. "You're right. You're a very, very bad submissive."

"Finally, you're catching up," Stiles pants. He tries to arch his hips up off the bed, but all he does is grind his ass against Scott's dick. "You're—you're gonna have to _make_ me."

Scott relaxes his grip on Stiles's hair and leans forward, covering Stiles's body with his own. "Whatever you need," he says. "I've got you."

What Stiles needs is to get off rutting against the bed, his shirt rucked up to his armpits so Scott can jerk off on Stiles's back, smear his come down the length of Stiles's spine and between his cheeks, teasing against Stiles's hole. He's already thinking about next time, about how he's going to suck Stiles off and Stiles will struggle the whole way. Like humans do when they're into it, but like wolves, too, when they play. It's good. It's gonna be _so_ good.

**Author's Note:**

> ...maybe some xeno to come?
> 
> I'm [ladyofthelog](http://ladyofthelog.tumblr.com) on tumblr.


End file.
